Today I interviewed The Boss about her perceptions of me in the hope of eliciting some blog fodder. It worked for Toyfoto when she turned her reporter's notebook on her daughter, Annabel.
I did not have similar success.
The long list of questions included ones like this, "what do you do that makes your mom happy?" (her answer: not doing something bad) and this, "what do you do that makes your mom sad?" (her answer: doing something bad).
I almost threw in the towel completely when she cited "vegetables" as my favorite food. The exercise was shaping up to be a bust.
I didn't know that The Partner was listening from his home workstation in the corner of the kitchen until question #13 came up.
"What's your mom's job?" I asked The Boss.
"Cleaning the house," she replied.
I made a self-conscious little tee-hee at my daughter's gross misperception as the background click of the computer keyboard ceased beneath The Partner's fingers. There was glee in the gloat that emanated from the other room: